Looking Beyond
by SamanthaRose
Summary: Revised. The story of a young human paladin and a troll shaman who share a link with one another through dreams and their journey to find the meaning of the dreams and their bond to one another
1. For the Light

Lowering the map slowly, Constance Al'varay peeked over the top, staring up at the massive gates before her that lead into the city of Stormwind. The trip here had taken her far longer than it should have, but it was always hard for her to just simply pass through Goldshire these days. Sitting down at the side of the path leading in through the gates, she folded the map in her lap and ran her fingers through her dusty red hair, sighing in frustration.

"Congratulations, Constance, you made it." She grumbled to herself, forcing herself up onto her feet again so she could continue on with her plans for the day. She waited for a dwarf and a human to pass by her, followed by two elves, then she continued walking herself, looking down at the map once more to figure out where in the city to go.

After a few moments, she collided with someone, stumbling and falling backwards with a yelp of surprise. Landing on her backside in the dirt on the path, she let out a soft appology and looked up as a shadow fell over her. The male Nightelf she had collided with sneered down at her, making no move to offer her a hand up, his glowing eyes narrowed.

"Watch where you're going, you stupid, clumsy human." He growled, spitting on the ground near her and turning to continue on his way. Constance sat for a moment, feeling rather wounded and confused, tears welling up in her blue eyes. She sat for another moment, watching people simply walk past her without offering to help, then she slowly got to her feet to try and uselessly beat the dust from her worn leather armor.

This wasn't go at all the way she thought it would... This wasn't a very good start to her journey. Sucking in a sharp breath to stop the tears from falling and making muddy tracks down her cheeks, she lifted her chin slightly and walked on, stepping off the dirt road and onto the white marble cobblestones of the bridge over the Valley of Kings.

"There." She whispered. "That wasn't so hard, now was it?" She walked towards the end of the bridge, careful to stay away from the edge lest she accidently bump someone into the water or fall in herself. A very important man on a horse was at the end, greeting travellers as they entered the city, two guards standing on either side of him. More guards, all of them heavily armored and just as heavily armed, stood just beyond the wall behind the man on the horse, all of them ever watchful... Constance swallowed, her hands starting to tremble slightly as she passed them. She could only imagine what they would be standing there for, what they were guarding the city from. Heart pounding, she passed off the white cobblestones onto normal grey ones as she entered the city proper.

It was larger and more beautiful than she ever could have imagined. Her breath caught as she stared around her at all the tall buildings, the shops, the tower where the gryphons flew to and from, the fountain, and far in the distance, the top of the Cathedral. Moved foward by the crowds that came behind her, Constance walked slowly, looking about in absolute awe of what she was seeing.

You have things to do, she reminded herself, shaking her head slightly to clear it before pulling out the paper Milly had written the name of the Inn she was to stay at on.

"The Pig and Whistle. Old Town... Okay, that's... um..." She looked around, searching for a sign, then pulled out her map once more, unfolding it hurriedly. "I'm here... so I need to go this way to reach Old Town. Okay then." Smiling to herself and clumsily folding the map once more, Constance hurried towards the canals. She was eager to get cleaned up and changed into her mail so she could go and hand in her conscription to Lord Grayson Shadowbreaker, who was to become her master from this day forth. She very nearly floated across the bridge and down the passage into Old Town, unable to conceal her excitement.

Finally... what she had been waiting to do nearly all her life, she was so close to finally doing it.

The sound of the water made her pause on the other side of the bridge, her eyes half closed and her teeth grit as something at the back of her memory started to surface. The sound of water... the sound of the canals, the guards that stood near the entrance of the City, the white cobblestones...

Horses... hooves pounding across the ground... Two riders, wearing dark cloaks, covering their whole bodies... hooves pounding...

Swaying where she stood, Constance closed her eyes and let out a soft noise, gripping the wall near her to keep from falling down. She was used to seeing these things when she was sleeping at night... never before had these visions surfaced while she was still wide awake. Feeling dizzy and nauseous, Constance stumbled forward, still clutching at the wall, anxious now to reach the Inn and her room. Worry bubbled up in her... perhaps coming to this City was a bad idea.

Upon checking in, Constance took a moment to sit down and clear her head, drinking some of the water she still had in her water pouch.

Probably just a case of nerves, she told herself in reassurance, though... she didn't feel very reassured by the words. Taking in a breath, she stood once more, stripping off the leather armor she wore and picking up her pack. Inside was the supplies she had carefully packed for her journey... enough rations and water to last a week, paper and ink in case she needed to write a letter, her money pouch to pay for transportation and accomodation, her sleep roll in case she couldn't find accomodation, her small, well worn mace and her mail armor.

She picked up the mace and turned it over in her hands, a smile touching her lips. It had come from her sister in Lakeshire, Holly, who had used it before she became a guard for Stormwind City and transferred to Lakeshire. Setting the mace down, Constance pulled out her mail armor and the cloth clothing she was to wear under it, setting them carefully beside the mace on her bed before moving to the washbasin to get some of the dust that covered her off.

She wanted to at least look half decent when she went to speak to Lord Grayson Shadowbreaker. Combing out her hair and washing her face, she glanced at herself in the mirror. She looked... tired. She supposed it was something she would grow used to in time. After all... these journies were always long and hard. Moving back to the bed, she dressed herself as quickly as she could, picking up her conscription and the letter that Milly had written for Lord Grayson and hurrying downstairs once more.

Now it was time to travel to the Cathedral to seal her fate and continue down the path she had chosen for herself.

Looking up and up, Constance nearly grew dizzy and fell as she looked at the entire span of the front of the Cathedral in the middle of Stormwind. She knew it was big before seeing it... she just hadn't expected it to be THIS big. Smiling to herself, she hurried up the stairs with the other people hurrying to do business there, heart fluttering in excitement.

A friar greeted her upon her entering, and Constance offered him a polite smile in return, looking around the interior of the Cathedral. The ceiling seemed to stretch on forever, and a long, long hall led up to a podium where the High Priestess stood. The Archbishop stood at the bottom of the stairs, speaking to several people garbed in simple apprentice's robes. One of them, a young woman with many silver earrings in both ears and short cropped dark hair fidgeted slightly, the dark haired man beside her looking down and simply placing a hand on her shoulder with a smile to calm her.

A nervous looking man spoke in hushed tones to the High Priestess, who frowned deeply at his words. A dwarf stood beside the nervous looking man holding his axe in a menacing way and looking around the room suspiciously.

Several people filtered in and out of one of the side rooms, carrying tomes and speaking quietly to one another. Constance supposed it was the Cathedral library... which meant the room directly beside it was the one she was to go to to report to Lord Grayson. Smiling, her trembling hands gripping her conscription eagerly, she moved towards the door way, excusing herself as she passed through a small crowd gathered at the side of the room. Taking in a breath, she looked in through the doorway of the room, pausing when she saw that Lord Grayson had company. The same tall blonde woman that had passed Constance just before she entered the city was standing there, a worried look on her face as she spoke quietly to the paladin.

"... know, but Grayson, my time here grows short. I leave for the Plaguelands in the morning, who knows when we will see one another next." She was saying. Constance stood to the side of the doorway, leaning against it slightly while she waited and pretending to be interested in the floor. "There is also talk of me being transferred to the Bulwark to help the Argent Dawn beat back the Scourge."

"Such is the life of a paladin, Gracia." Grayson replied softly. "We have no choice but to do the duty we trained ourselves to do the day we chose to follow the path of the Light. And the Plaguelands will not seem so far if we keep in touch with our hearthstones. It's only a portal away, as well, I can come and see you when I have the time."

"In days like these, will you be able to find the time?" The woman, Gracia, her voice was pleading, her blue eyes sad and her brow creased slightly. Constance stared at her for a moment, feeling admiration in her for the woman's poise and beauty. She was a paladin... she looked like Constance had envisioned a paladin to look.

"I will make the time, even if I have to leave Patter to take care of things while I'm gone. He's grown into a fine paladin, even with all that's happened in his life to make his thoughts dark." Grayson reached out a hand and brushed his fingers across Gracia's cheek affectionately, something that made Constance blush and look away.

As she did, someone's elbow connected with the side of her head, and with a startled cry of pain, she stumbled sideways and fell into the room where Grayson and Gracia stood, finding herself face down on the marble floor.

Several pairs of hands helped her to her feet, several voices asked if she was alright, and Constance let out a muffled 'ouch' before reassuring them she was fine. She looked towards the doorway, seeing the Nightelf she had collided with earlier standing there with the same sneer on his lips. He disappeared from view after stepping out of the doorway, and Constance frowned deeply to herself. She wasn't sure if this was going to become a problem or not... She had simply bumped into him, why was he acting the way he was?

"Ah... here, you dropped this, Miss... Al'varay is it? Oh..." Grayson's voice said, and Constance flushed deeply, turning to face him. He offered her a gentle smile, holding out her conscription paper. "You must be my new apprentice."

"A-ah... oh! Yes! I am Constance Al'varay, I was sent here from the Northshire Abbey." She smiled, cheeks still flushed, and Grayson bowed slightly. "Pleased to meet you Lord Grayson... I'm, uh... I'm sorry for interrupting, you two seemed to be..."

"Not to worry, Miss Al'varay." The woman, Gracia said as she stepped closer. "Our conversation was nearly finished anyhow. I must take my leave, Grayson... Until next we meet."

"Peace be with you, Gracia Dawnbringer." He smiled at her, she returned the smile, then she hurried from the room, her platemail armor gleaming in the light from the stained glass windows. Constance stared after her, lips parted slightly and eyes wide in awe. "Now, little paladin, we shall begin. Follow me." Realizing that Grayson was addressing her, Constance blinked and nodded, shutting her mouth and following him to the library.

"Oh!" She pulled out the letter Milly had written, handing it to him as they entered. "H-here."

"Ah? What's this?" He turned the letter over and looked at Constance, who beamed proudly.

"A request, I was told, that I train under you specifically, Lord Grayson." She said very softly, shyly, and Grayson laughed.

"I see, I see. Sounds like you're something special, Constance Al'varay." He winked at her, pulling a well worn tome from a shelf and handing it to her. "Here you go. In here is what you need to learn to cast your blessings upon the people, as well as yourself." Constance took the tome, looking down at it with a smile on her face. "I want you to take it back to your room in the Inn and learn your first blessing. Return here at dawn and bless me... then we will outfit you to begin on your quest, little paladin."

Feeling proud and full of warmth, Constance nodded, hugging the tome to her chest.

"Oh, I'll make sure to learn it quickly. I'll stay up all night, if I need to."

"You shouldn't, if you are truly a child of the Light, Constance. A paladin who truly believes in the Light can learn blessings quickly... It's the way we root the warriors from the paladins, really." He laughed softly and Constance echoed him, nodding. She trembled still, now worried she might not be able to do it. She told herself to have faith, bowing to Grayson.

"I will do my best. I promise."

"Good. Now, off with you. I will see you back here at dawn."

Turning to leave, Constance suddenly paused, turning back to face Grayson.

"Oh... I wanted to ask you about something." She murmured. He nodded and she took in a breath. "I was wondering... if you know of Falgore Ashlocke. He was training here in Stormwind as a paladin... I was wondering if you knew where he is now?"

Grayson frowned slightly, a thoughtful look crossing his face.

"I remember all my students, no matter how short a time they were with me. I... can recall the name, but I can also assure you that Falgore Ashlocke never became a paladin. He failed the first test and even after several other attempts, he never managed to become a paladin. He became part of the Stormwind Guard instead, I believe."

A new voice piped up from behind them as footsteps approached, making both Grayson and Constance turn.

"Ashlocke? Falgore Ashlocke? He transferred over to Lakeshire a while back when they told him he was unfit to guard Stormwind. After a raid on the city, he was found cowering in the corner of a tavern, muttering and pleading to his mother." The young man stopped in front of them, offering a bow to Grayson. Constance stared at him in horror, unable to accept the things he was saying. Falgore... cowering in a corner? Constance had known Falgore for years, and he had always been the brave one that protected her in the Abbey from the kobolds and wolves. She hadn't ever heard of him... cowering before. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she managed a weak smile.

"I'm... sorry to hear that. He's an old friend who... sent me a letter telling me he was going to be a paladin after he left the Abbey. I haven't seen him in awhile, haven't heard from him either. I was just... curious." She bowed, hurrying towards the exit with her head lowered so that no one would see the tears crowding her eyes. Grayson watched her depart, turning to the young man.

"Patter... you didn't need to do that." He said softly. Patter blinked, then frowned, lowering his eyes.

"Sorry... sir. I trained with Falgore, and he's not the most trustworthy or intelligent person in the world. I just felt... the truth is better than beating around the bush. Besides, it seems that Falgore has a way with ladies, hooking them under his thumb easily because of his smile, his eyes, his long curly hair. That's not what a paladin is made of, it's no wonder he never passed the tests." Patter shouldered his massive mace and moved past Grayson, further into the library. Grayson was silent and still for a moment, turning the letter over in his hands again before opening it.

His eyes scanned the words that were written on the paper inside the envelope, a deep frown creasing his brow shortly before his eyes widened in shock. He stared at the letter a little longer before crumpling it in his hand, sucking in a breath through clenched teeth. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his hearthstone, closing his eyes as it glowed in his hand.

"Gracia... come back to the Cathedral. There's something I need to discuss with you, something of utmost ugency."


	2. Day at the Den

Pausing quietly in the doorway, Rai'zul found himself watching his sister sleeping, a smile touching his lips. Running long fingers through his flaming red hair, the young troll moved into the room of the house he and his sister shared, stepping to her bedside and brushing a stray whisp of pale hair from her forehead. He frowned, leaning in slightly.

She was sweating... her eyes moved rapidly beneath their lids, and her breath was short and shallow. Her lips moved soundlessly, forming words she didn't quite speak.

"Sister mine." Rai'zul murmured, touching his fingers to her forehead. "Hel'caite... wake up." She stirred slightly but didn't quite wake, so Rai'zul straightened with a sigh. He watched her for another long moment, then thumped his longbow on the ground a couple times, making her startle suddenly awake. "There ya go."

"Whassa'?" She mumbled sleepily, looking towards the window with half closed eyes. "Ah yah! Rai'zul! Joo be lettin' meh sleep in too late!"

"You were the one sleepin', sister mine." Her brother flashed her a brilliant grin from behind his small tusks, something that made her cheeks flush slightly. Pushing her sweat soaked hair from her eyes and quickly pulling it back into a ponytail, Hel'caite slid out from under the light covers of her bed. Wearing nothing but her skin, which was normally a pale blue that shone with a healthy glow, Hel'caite moved to the small pile of clothing at one side of her room, sorting through them to find an outfit to wear. Rai'zul watched her in amusement, though his voice held concern as he spoke to her while she moved about. "You look pale. You were havin' that dream again, weren' choo?"

"Ah yah." Slipping on a loose mantle and making sure her kilt was straight, Hel'caite turned to face Rai'zul, managing a smile. "Don'choo be worryin' abou' meh, t'ough, bruddah mine. Dis jo'ney be too impo'tan' fo' us ta be worryin' abou' some silleh dream."

"It's not so silly." Tilting his head to the side so that his braid fell over his shoulder, Rai'zul sighed. "You should take it a little more seriously."

"Mebbeh latah." She picked up the bag she had packed for herself the night before, smiling again, this time a grin that bared her considerable tusks. "We be late sta'tin'. Migh' as well be headin' ou' now, yah? Dat greenie be tellin' us come to da Den won' be waitin' fo'evah."

"Righ'." Rai'zul returned her grin, following her out the door. Pausing to pick up some food from the small kitchen, the two moved out of their small house and into the town of Sen'jin, the other trolls who lived there already starting their day. Many who knew the two greeted them and wished them luck on their way, though the looks they exchanged behind the backs of the two young trolls spoke of other emotions that went unsaid. As they went up the road, away from the village, Hel'caite stopped to pick some of the peacebloom growing on the side of the path. The scent of the blossoms was sweet, making Rai'zul's stomach turn slightly, but he couldn't deny how pretty his sister looked with the blossoms tucked behind one of her pointed ears. He watched her carefully as they walked, still worried she was too pale and seemed tired and withdrawn. Even if they weren't at all blood related, the entire time he had been in Sen'jin village, Hel'caite had been his little sister. Five years separated them, and at this point, barely seventeen summers had passed for Hel'caite. She was barely old enough to leave the village... but she insisted that she must begin her quest to become a shaman now rather than later. For good reason, too...

Hel'caite, for some time now, had been suffering strange and disturbing dreams at night while she slept. She told Rai'zul she saw a young human girl with red hair cowering in the corner of a crypt somewhere, dark circles beneath her eyes and her hair shorn short. She had blood covering her hands and the mace she was holding, her blue eyes staring wildly into the distance.

It was nothing more than an image, but the feeling, Hel'caite said, was the most horrible part. It was a feeling of terror, self-loathing and pity, the feeling of having done something beyond comprehension. Rai'zul worried what it might mean, urged her to visit an elder shaman or a dream-seer, but the thought of Seer's terrified his sister. So now, they were starting out on their journey to become part of Azeroth, dreams and worries aside.

As they moved onto the main road and headed down into the Valley of Trials, neither of them noticed that they were being watched from the top of the hill. A sigh escaped the throat of the orc that stood there, his features grizzled and yet not unkind, a scar over one eye and large tusks jutting from his mouth. His long silver hair was pulled back in a braid and loose, plain brown robes that clothed him rustled slightly in the dry desert wind that swept over Durotar. Grumbling slightly, tapping his staff on the ground a few times, the orc started down the hill after them from a distance.

"Whelps... barely old enough to leave the village. What are they thinking?" Grunting, the orc paused, looking towards the sun. "And a late start, at that." He continued down the dusty road, continuing to grumble.

Hel'caite stopped near the central fire pit, looking around the area curiously. There were many people milling about, guards and fledgling warriors, and near the fire, a tall orc stood looking at the two siblings with a crooked grin on his face. Rai'zul frowned at him, but Hel'caite returned the smile shyly, moving over to him.

"'Ey de'a'." She chirped. "We be jus' sta'tin' ou' on ou' jo'ney, we was to'd ta come he'a' fo' ou' trainin'." She opened her mouth to continue, but the orc suddenly let out a bark of laughter, leering at her, his eyes sweeping over her.

"Speak orcish, troll girl." He growled, grinning again. "I can't understand a word you're saying."

"But Ah..."

"Hey." Rai'zul stepped forward, tusks bared in fury. "Don't you dare talk to my sister that way."

"Back off, Half-tusks." The orc shoved him slightly. "I didn't mean any harm. Now, you're here to train, so let's begin you off small." He turned slightly, pointing out at the plains. "Out there, there are wild boars running rampant, and I want you to go and kill some for me." He grinned slightly again.

"... Dat's yo' idea o' trainin'?" Hel'caite asked softly. Rai'zul looked at her, then looked back at the orc.

"Fine. How many?"

"Doesn't matter to me. Just go do your job and don't ask so many stupid questions!!!" The orc roared, making Hel'caite flinch and duck behind Rai'zul, her hand closing over his arm tightly. Her older brother glanced down at her hand, prying it forcefully off her arm and dragging her out from behind him.

"Keep yo' pants on, greenskin. We'll kill you some boars." He snarled, taking Hel'caite's arm in his hand and stalking towards the plains with her in tow. The orc howled with laughter behind them, serving only to make Rai'zul even angrier. He tightened his grip on Hel'caite's arm, making her squeal in pain.

"Rai'zul, let go o' meh! Yo' hutin' mah a'm." She whimpered.

"Stop acting like a baby, Hel'caite!" He stopped and turned her to face him. "You're a troll! Start actin' like one! Don't flinch and hide just because someone raises their voice at you, yo' not a child anymore!"

Hel'caite stared at him with tears in her eyes for a moment, then sucked in a breath, baring her tusks. She pulled her arm away from him, shoving him backwards before turning to stalk further into the plains. Rai'zul watched her with pain in his eyes, his heart thundering in his chest.

/I'm sorry, Hel'caite.../ He saw her hurry over to a boar, casting an enchantment on her mace before bashing it over the head. /Please forgive me./

Watching their antics from afar, the elder orc scowled.

"Fighting like children, disgusting." He snarled, shuffling down the hill towards the Den. "Why I'm even bothering with this... I don't know." With a sigh, he shook his head, realizing he really had no choice.

Like the young troll girl he was trailing, he suffered strange dreams. Because of that, he felt it was his duty to keep an eye on the girl, worrying about the effect the dreams were having on her.

"Ah, master Kargrin." The orc near the firepit said loudly at his approach. "What brings you back here to the Den?"

"Business." Kargrin thumped his staff on the ground again several times. "I'm here to observe some of the younglings training here."

"Ah?" The orc tilted his head to the side. "Who might you be here to watch, master?"

"A couple troll-lings that left Sen'jin this morning." Kargin smirked slightly, looking over at the orc. "I trust they will be returning soon?"

The orc swallowed a few times before answering.

"Well... yes... sir. I believe it shouldn't take them too long between the two of them to come... back."

"Ah, good." Kargin chuckled softly to himself. "I wanted to wish my little hell-cat good luck for her trial in the morning. I have high hopes for her as a shaman. The spirits tell me she will do just fine."


End file.
